


What Was Left Unsaid (until now)

by Kenobicontent



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst and Feels, Campfires, Cold Weather, Confessions, Eventual Fluff, Everyone Needs A Hug, Family Fluff, Fever Dreams, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Obi-Wan Kenobi Being an Idiot, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Protective Ahsoka Tano, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Stranded, Talking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28434384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenobicontent/pseuds/Kenobicontent
Summary: “I feel fine,” Obi-Wan insisted casually, eyes focused on the licking flames of the fire. “All we need to do is just keep an eye on it.” At Anakin’s hard look, he added, “It isn’t worrisome.”“Right,” Anakin huffed, clearly unconvinced. “Now sit still, and let me clean this thing out.”“That’s gonna hurt,” Ahsoka found herself mumbling.“No kidding,” Anakin replied sarcastically. “Grab me that canteen and a towel.”(Or: Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ashoka are stranded during a winter storm in a cave on Hoth. Obi-Wan, as usual, goes to great lengths to hide an injury, but he ends up paying a great price for it.)
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 86
Kudos: 344





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! Here is yet another story featuring my favorite trio and an injured Obi-Wan! This will be approximately around 3-4 chapters, and I will update as soon as I can. I would imagine this story takes place around a little bit before the Zygerrian arc, if that’s helpful to anyone reading. I hope you all enjoy!

“Home sweet home, ain’t it, Snips?”

Ahsoka cocked a single eyebrow up, unimpressed. “ _That’s_ what you wanna call it?”

“Why not?” Anakin asked her, head tilting toward the ravaging snowstorm sweeping through the polar desert outside. “Better than being stranded out _there_.”

“He’s right,” Obi-Wan agreed, following his former Padawan deeper into the depths of the cave they had miraculously stumbled upon. At Ahsoka’s hesitation, he gave her an assuring smile. “It’s alright, young one.”

“Are you sure there aren’t any creatures hibernating in here?” She inquired warily.

“We’ll be fine,” Anakin said simply.

 _“Sure._ Because when you say that, things _definitely_ don’t go wrong.” Ahsoka couldn’t help the annoyed huff she gave, nor did she feel any guilt at the irritated look her master shot her in return. “Oh, come on. You _know_ I’m right.”

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Ahsoka on this one,” Obi-Wan shot her a wry smile while setting his duffel bag on the ground and beginning to go through it, possibly for a pair of matches. 

“You’re _supposed_ to be on _my_ side, old man,” Anakin grumbled with a tight cross of his arms.

“Am I?” Obi-Wan replied without missing a beat, pulling out a pack of—ah, Ahsoka guessed it—matches. He quickly got to work on starting a fire, gathering some stray sticks scattered across the large cave and bundling them together. At Anakin’s dry eye roll, he only allowed the smallest of smirks to creep up his lips but didn’t offer any more words.

“You two,” Ahsoka muttered with her own amused smile.

A few short minutes later and Obi-Wan had a small fire going. The threesome were currently huddled around it, snuggling deeper into their parkas and wordlessly passing around ration bars. Ahsoka took the one Anakin gave her with a grim nod, the sight of it already making her nauseous. 

“ _Eat it_ ,” her master told her firmly.

“I am, I am.” Ahsoka raised her hands in mock surrender before peeling it open and taking a bite, recoiling at the taste instantly.

“It’s not _that_ bad.”

“Oh, _it is_ ,” Ahsoka said with a wrinkle of her nose. “How do you even _eat_ these on a normal basis?”

“You get used to it over the years.” Anakin smiled wistfully, turning to Obi-Wan, who hadn’t eaten very much of his own bar either. “Right, Master?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Ahsoka’s gaze shifted up to her grandmaster curiously. He turned away from them, rummaging through his duffel bag again for a short moment before tugging out a thermal blanket. Then, holding it out to Ahoska, he said, “Here, take it. We need all the warmth we can get.”

She froze, bright blue eyes wide. “Master Kenobi...are you sure? There’s only two, and I forgot mine back in the ship.” Embarrassment filled her at reminding them of this; she should have been better prepared.

Obi-Wan didn’t reply, gently spreading the blanket across her cold body instead. Ahsoka couldn’t deny the incredible warmth it provided her. Shooting a grateful smile up at her grandmaster, she quietly gave him her thanks, hopeful it would be enough.

“Of course,” he replied with a small smile.

“You’re not gonna get me a blanket, Master?” Anakin feigned an expression of hurt, much to Ahsoka’s amusement. “I thought I meant something to you too.”

“Don’t you have a blanket in your own bag?” Obi-Wan asked pointedly.

“ _Yeah_ , but that’s not the point.”

Obi-Wan only shook his head as he made his way back over to his spot on the ground and took a seat. Anakin, still grumbling about his master’s apparent _insensitivity—_ that was what _he_ called it, at least—mimicked Obi-Wan’s actions and fetched his own blanket for himself. Soon, both Ahsoka and her master were enshrouded in warmth, and she couldn’t help the guilt she felt at the sight of Obi-Wan without a blanket.

He, however, appeared to be doing just fine without the extra warmth. His blue-grey gaze stayed focused on the licking flames of the fire, a long silence accompanying his presence as well. Ahsoka studied him for a short while, attempting to decipher the carefully blank expression etched on his features. 

She wasn’t succeeding.

Master Obi-Wan had always been a mystery to her. Over the course of the war she had grown more and more familiar with him and with the way he had operated, but never had there been a time where Ahsoka felt as if he completely let his guard down. 

He was calm, collected, composed. Always tranquil, no matter the situation. He was quiet, too, the times where he spoke being rare ones but memorable. He was also incredibly smart; working alongside him on missions hadn’t proved otherwise, Ahsoka was sure of it. His mind was quick, sharp, and he often offered ideas and opinions that others hadn’t even considered but now respected. 

There were some days, where even as long as Ahsoka had known him, she was completely blown away by his abilities. To her, her grandmaster seemed as if he could pull off anything, whether it be fighting, creating battle strategies, negotiating, teaching—the list could have stretched to an eternity, she knew.

But he was always so _reserved_. Definitely, however, not on the battlefield; Ahsoka had witnessed him sass and mouth off his enemies countless times to the point where she had taken an extreme disliking to Asajj Ventress simply because of it. That woman _always_ flirted with Obi-Wan no matter the circumstances, and Ahsoka couldn’t deny that it made her greatly uncomfortable and disgusted with her. She supposed it didn’t help the fact that her grandmaster didn’t really seem to _mind_ it and simply just _went along_ with it instead of declining her advances. Ahsoka had even pestered Anakin about it once, wondering if somehow the two really were in fact attracted to one another, but her master had shut down any idea of it instantly, stating that was the way Obi-Wan engaged with nearly _all_ of his opponents whom he greatly despised.

Ahsoka would be lying if she claimed she hadn’t been relieved to hear that.

Just the mere thought of her grandmaster being attracted to _Ventress_ …

She shuddered.

The strange thing was, though, that whenever Obi-Wan was in the company of people he was familiar with—like her and Anakin, she supposed—he tended to be quiet and more of a listener. Sure, he could be sarcastic and quick-witted, but the Obi-Wan Kenobi who fought valiantly on the battlefield was not the same Obi-Wan Kenobi when off of it. 

And Ahsoka was _still_ trying to find the answer to why.

“Cold, Master?” Anakin asked tauntingly with a ridiculous wiggle of his eyebrows.

Obi-Wan merely shook his head, extending his arms out to his sides to stretch them. “Funny, Anakin,” he told his former Padawan without a hint of amusement. Anakin just grinned back at him, blue eyes as bright and energetic as ever. Ahsoka couldn’t stop the small snort from escaping her mouth at their ridiculousness; they really _could_ in fact become children when in the midst of their banter.

“Quit being stubborn, and just _get_ over here,” Anakin snapped, patting the empty space of cold ground beside him. “Ahsoka and I are perfectly warm right now, and you would be too if you stopped being so stuffy.” 

Obi-Wan’s eyes darted to the sight of Anakin and Ahsoka huddled together like two peas in a pod, Ahsoka’s head currently resting on her master’s shoulder. She really hadn’t given the act much thought; Anakin had always welcomed the idea of the comfort, and she supposed she had grown used to it. She would be lying if she stated that it didn’t feel nice sometimes.

A small part of Ahsoka was yearning for Obi-Wan to join them. He looked terribly lonely curled in on himself a few feet away from them with his gloved hands neatly resting atop his crossed legs, his ginger bangs under the hood of his parka reflecting the bright flames of the fire in front of him. And while Ahsoka often figured her grandmaster simply liked his own personal space, it would be insane for him not even to be the _slightest_ bit tempted at contributing to their warmth in this brutal cold. 

“I’m fine, Anakin,” Obi-Wan assured him patiently, expression carefully crafted into one of mildness.

Anakin responded to this claim by grabbing his former master’s arm and forcefully yanking it towards him and Ahsoka. Obi-Wan’s grunt of surprise as he was pulled forward was that of the understated, but his annoyed features rapidly transitioning into ones of pain was what had Ahsoka’s blood freezing in concern.

“Master—“ she started, only it was cut off by the excruciating sound of her grandmaster hissing, gritting his teeth together so tightly she feared they would squeak. 

“Obi-Wan—“ All traces of amusement lingering on Anakin’s face dropped instantly. Blue eyes flooding with concern and his hold of his former master’s arm tightening, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

 _“Let go of my arm, let go of my arm, let go of my—“_ Obi-Wan harshly released a shaky exhale once Anakin complied to his command, eyes closing in what appeared to be relief. Then, he gently nursed said arm with the other, struggling to control his uneven breaths. “That’s better,” he breathed softly, voice no more than a whisper.

After sharing an incredulous look with Anakin, Ahsoka exclaimed, “What happened?”

She waited for a moment as Obi-Wan seemed to be recollecting himself, and when he finally opened his eyes, she noticed they were still laced with pain. “ _Ah_ , nothing too serious,” he informed them assuringly, although his breaths still sounded more like pants. “Just a quick run in with an unexpecting wampa.”

 _“What?”_ Anakin said, expression contorted in disbelief. Ahsoka winced at the way his voice carried in the cave, knowing all too well that her master was beginning to lose his patience. _“_ How did _that_ happen?”

“We were separated, remember?” Obi-Wan reminded him. At Anakin’s nod, he continued. “Once I left the base, they were still onto me. I deactivated my ‘saber in hopes to lose them, but that _may_ not have been the wisest decision…”

After a long, agonizing paise, Anakin snapped. _“Well?”_ He demanded angrily.

Obi-Wan, however, didn’t look the least bit intimidated by the deadly glare his former Padawan was currently facing him with. Instead, he cocked an unimpressed eyebrow up at Anakin but remained silent, purposely not speaking until the younger Jedi’s expression turned pleading.

“If you think _that’s_ how you’re going to get the story out of me, then you’re terribly mistaken,” Obi-Wan told him coolly.

“Alright, I’m sorry,” Anakin said quickly, and it sounded like he _meant it_. “Please just tell me how this happened.”

Obi-Wan released a long-suffering sigh, shoulders slightly slumping. “I tried looking for you and Ahsoka, Rex, Cody, _anyone_ —but to no avail. Then, I suppose it just _happened_ ; through the storm I managed to run into it...and let’s simply say the encounter didn’t end very well.”

 _“For Force’s sake—“_ Anakin began, then abruptly cut himself off. Ahsoka nervously watched him take a few deep breaths before calming himself. However, when he spoke again, his words were quiet but cut through the cold air like a knife. “We were separated for _ten minutes_ , Master.”

“It was a big storm,” Obi-Wan simply said. “I could barely see three-feet ahead of me.”

“That doesn’t _explain_ how you—“

“Master,” Ahsoka interrupted calmly before Anakin could get on a roll again. “I think we should stop pestering Master Kenobi about the story and focus on treating his wounds instead.”

Anakin stared at her for a short moment, but finally, he complied. “Good point, Snips,” he told her, then turning to Obi-Wan and ordering, “Take off your coat, and I’ll have a look at it.”

It was then when Ahsoka became aware of the gauze already firmly wrapped around Obi-Wan’s upper arm, the lightness of the material nearly blending within the color of his parka. She quickly concluded that this had been the point—her grandmaster’s pathetic attempt at hiding yet _another_ injury—and couldn’t help the glare she sent his way. 

Anakin seemed to notice it the same time she did, his already irritated expression darkening even more. “You’re telling me you wrapped it already?” He asked incredulously, gloved hands delicately ghosting over the bandage in disbelief. “What the kriff even _is_ this, Obi-Wan?”

“Language, Anakin,” the elder Jedi replied tartly.

“Whatever.” Anakin was already unwrapping the gauze, letting it drop unceremoniously to the ground, shaking his head in disappointment at the revealed sight of blood now blooming across the sleeve of Obi-Wan’s parka. “You’re telling me you couldn’t find _anyone_ out there—not even Ahsoka and I—but had the time to wrap your wampa bite before we could see it?”

“It’s fine— _I’m_ fine,” Obi-Wan replied neutrally, shrugging the parka off his shoulder, wincing as he did so. Anakin only rolled his eyes before beginning to undo his former master’s tunic as well. To Ahsoka’s surprise, Obi-Wan didn’t resist; instead, he only gave a huff when Anakin peeled it off him completely, leaving the entire half of his upper body exposed.

Ahsoka couldn’t help but stare.

She had seen Anakin shirtless far too many times for her to count; whether it be watching him slide off his standard tunic and replace it with a nightshirt, or watching him take it off per Vokara Che’s orders so she could properly examine him, Ahsoka had grown quite used to it by now. Sure, she had been a bit flustered upon the first few times it had happened, but Anakin never seemed to mind, so she, too, learned to not even bat an eye when it occurred. 

_Obi-Wan_ , however, was a completely different story.

Upon first sight of witnessing Anakin shirtless, Ahsoka had noticed how incredibly muscular and fit her master was, from his arms, chest, and legs, and she supposed the Jedi life forced him to remain in his top physique no matter the circumstances—but never had she realized how much the stuffy Jedi robes did to hide the fact.

And as she stared, dumbfounded at the sight of her shirtless grandmaster, Ahsoka realized Obi-Wan was just as fit and athletic as Anakin, if not even more so. He was smaller than Anakin, though, as he appeared to be more lean than bulky, but his sculpted abs and muscular, toned arms spoke of brute strength and incredible athletic ability.

No wonder he was the only one who could seem to keep up with his nightmare of a former Padawan. Ahsoka wasn’t even sure a powerful Jedi such as Mace Windu would be able to. 

“Bacta, Ahsoka?” Anakin called, jerking her from her musings. She focused her gaze and found his expectant stare, hand already outstretched toward her.

“Right,” she said quickly, fumbling through her master’s duffel bag before surfacing with a bacta tube not even a moment later. She tossed it to Anakin without even looking, and the sound of the tube landing squarely within his palm was all the indication she needed to know that he had caught it. 

“ _Kriff_ , Obi-Wan,” Anakin cursed under his breath upon first sight of the wound enveloping his master’s forearm. “I’m just gonna say it—this is flat out disgusting.”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan replied shortly in return.

“Seriously, though—“ Anakin blew out a low whistle, features contorted in what looked to be concern. “This isn’t good. It’s bad, Master.” At Obi-Wan’s cocked eyebrow, he added, “ _Really_ bad.”

“Lemme see,” Ahsoka requested, and Anakin moved out of the way, providing her with more room. Now that her master’s massive form wasn’t covering the rather smaller one of her grandmaster, she got a better look at what seemed to be causing all the fuss.

Her stomach lurched at the gruesome sight.

“Master—“ she began in horror before abruptly cutting herself off. No, she was certain if she spoke again she would most definitely lose her breakfast. Luckily, Anakin seemed to have caught onto her queasiness and gracefully stepped in before the strange trail off of her sentence could become awkward.

“It’s already infected,” he noted dryly, even dryer glare moving up to Obi-Wan’s. “Now look at the mess we’re in, Master.”

“I feel fine,” Obi-Wan said casually, eyes focused on the licking flames of the fire. “All we need to do is just keep an eye on it.” At Anakin’s hard look, he added, “It isn’t worrisome.”

 _“Right,”_ Anakin huffed, clearly unconvinced. “Now sit still, and let me clean this thing out.”

“That’s gonna hurt,” Ahsoka found herself mumbling.

“No kidding,” Anakin replied sarcastically. “Grab me that canteen and a towel.”

Ahsoka nodded her affirmation, quickly handing the canteen of water and a thick, white towel her master’s way, who took both materials with thanks. Then, she watched silently as Anakin got to work on cleaning the wound, unable to hide her winces everytime her eyes landed on the sight of it on Obi-Wan’s arm.

It looked…terrible. Ahsoka knew that if Cody had been here, he would gone ballistic at the fact that his general had gone to ridiculously long lengths yet _again_ to feign perfect health, and as strange as it would be to witness Obi-Wan being lectured, Ahsoka couldn’t help but yearn for the commander’s presence; he, above all people, would be able to knock some sense into her grandmaster’s thick skull. Obi-Wan had always been fond of Cody, so she suspected it would be terribly difficult not to listen to him. 

“Ahsoka, do we have another towel?” Anakin asked, if a bit hurriedly. Looking down at the current one in his hand, Ahsoka’s heart leapt at the sight of it drenched in blood, it’s original color having completely vanished within the sickening color of crimson.

“I think so.” Emptying her master’s duffel bag, she surfaced with another towel almost instantly, sighing in relief when Anakin pressed it firmly against the wound, eliciting the slightest flinch from Obi-Wan at the pressure.

“You alright?” Anakin asked warily.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan answered, although Ahsoka caught the stiffness in his voice.

He was in pain.

“It still isn’t entirely cleaned out, Master,” Anakin informed him with a sympathetic wince. “I hate to say it, but I think you’re gonna have to just suffer through a little longer until I can finish.”

“Carry on, then,” Obi-Wan replied busily, his neutral gaze instilling him as nothing but tranquil, but Anakin had simply known him for too long; just the mere cock of her master’s eyebrow proved to Ahsoka that Anakin wasn’t convinced, and she supposed that she wasn’t either. Obi-Wan was incredible at hiding his discomfort, though, and Ahsoka knew she would have completely fallen for his deception at the beginning of her Padawan days, but the truth was that she was no longer as naïve anymore.

Lying to her was becoming harder and harder as she grew more and more wary throughout the long span of the war. She supposed it was just instinct.

Watching Anakin spill water across the wound and Obi-Wan swallow thickly, Ahsoka found herself studying the bite displayed across her grandmaster’s arm against her will. It was ginormous, red, and already swelling, the teeth marks deeply digging into the skin spewing out globs of yellow and green—a clear sign of infection. And all the while, it continued to bleed freely, forming a large puddle on the ground between the space of Obi-Wan and Anakin, although neither of them appeared to pay any mind to it.

“Almost done,” Anakin murmured, gently dabbing the towel against the wound, lips tightening into a firm line at the amount of blood that came away with it. Sheepishly turning Ahsoka’s way, he asked hopefully, “Another towel?”

And to their disappointment, Ahsoka returned empty-handed. They had used all the materials deemed useful. Nothing was left.

“That’s okay,” Anakin assured her, continuing his task of tightly pressing the blood-stained towel against the wound. He held it there for a few minutes, and it was quiet for a while until he finally pulled away, shaking his head in bewilderment.

“How you managed to hide this is beyond me,” he informed Obi-Wan sharply. 

“I had completely forgotten about it until you grabbed my arm,” was his master’s reply.

“That’s the best I can clean it,” Anakin said, ignoring Obi-Wan’s response entirely as he began wrapping a bacta patch around the wound. “If I were to keep going, you’d lose too much blood, and then we’d be in trouble.”

“That’s fine.” Obi-Wan gave a dismissive wave of his hand with his uninjured arm. 

“I’m not finished,” Anakin said firmly. “It _is_ , however, still infected and could cause some problems, so the three of us need to keep an eye on it, understand?”

“Yes, Master,” Ahsoka affirmed obediently while Obi-Wan quietly but gratefully offered his thanks. 

Anakin sent his Padawan and former master an appreciative nod before turning to face the mouth of the cave, where the snowstorm ravaging outside showed no signs of slowing down. The sky was completely dark, leaving the small fire in front of the three Jedi as their only light source. A sigh escaped Ahsoka’s mouth against her will; all she wanted was for them to be rescued.

“Rex and Cody will come looking for us in the morning,” Anakin said softly, having picked up on her worry through their bond. Normally Ahsoka would have been embarrassed for her leaky shields, but this time, she was too tired to care. “I’m sure of it.”

“I hope so.” 

“Just watch. They’ll be here before you know it.” Anakin shot her a playful smile once having finished wrapping up Obi-Wan’s wound and rose to his feet, rummaging through their duffel bags and pulling out three bedrolls. Unfolding and laying them neatly on the ground, each only a few inches apart from the other to preserve warmth, Ahsoka assumed, Anakin then returned to Obi-Wan and helped his former master slide his tunic back up his shoulders and onto his body with a gentleness that only appeared within him rarely. One that he only took to bestow upon people whom he cared a great amount for.

Ahsoka would be lying if she didn’t secretly relish in the fact that she seemed to be one of the very special people.

“We should all get some sleep,” Anakin suggested once Obi-Wan was layered back in both his tunic and parka. “It’s been a long day.”

“Sounds good to me,” Ahsoka answered with a smile. 

“I suppose there’s nothing better to do, is there?” Obi-Wan asked in a bored manner, although at Ahsoka’s surprised expression, he managed a small, teasing smirk that indicated he had been joking. She sheepishly returned it, still having to get used to her grandmaster’s dry sense of humor even after all the time they had spent together since the beginning of the war.

“Just shut up, and go to sleep, Master,” Anakin said with a playful roll of his eyes as he softly lowered himself onto the middle bedroll. Ahsoka soon followed, burying herself within the warmth of the blanket Obi-Wan had offered her. She turned onto her side, away from her master and grandmaster, although she could still hear the quiet shifts of a bedroll that informed her Obi-Wan was now lying down too. She snuck one quick glance over her shoulder at the two elder Jedi and found with relief that Anakin was currently sharing his blanket with Obi-Wan. Both of their eyes were closed, but Ahsoka could still sense that they were very much wide awake.

“Go to sleep, Padawan,” came Obi-Wan’s calm voice.

Ahsoka nodded and, turning back onto her side, closed her eyes and attempted to rest.

She drifted off much faster than she expected, and she supposed that was a good thing. Things would be better by the time they woke up, she was sure of it.

They had to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will start happening next chapter, so stay tuned!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan and Anakin manage a quick moment to talk before everything goes downhill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, again! I decided that this story would end up containing four chapters, so I hope that’s a treat for all you readers! Also, I know some of you didn’t realize that this fic would be multiple chapters, and for that I apologize. Even when I hit the multiple chapter button, it won’t mark it that way until I add another chapter, and that’s really annoying, but please bear with me! I appreciate you all for understanding! 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and happy reading!

Anakin awoke to the sensation of a body next to him quivering.

Sleepily blinking his eyes open, they landed on the sight of Ahsoka lying asleep beside him, her head being cradled by one arm. Her lips were slightly parted, the soft snores escaping her mouth audible but quiet. Propping himself up with his elbow, Anakin quickly concluded that she was very still and couldn’t be the one shivering, so that meant—

Whirling around, Anakin came to face Obi-Wan’s back, and just as he had predicted, his former master was trembling to the bone.

A flash of fear ran through Anakin’s veins. “Obi-Wan?”

There was no response.

_“Obi-Wan.”_

Silence.

“I know you’re awake, old man.”

“Won’t you please leave me to freeze to death in peace, Padawan?”

Anakin sighed and sat up, rubbing the remaining sleep from his eyes. Next to him, Obi-Wan heaved a sigh of his own and forced himself up as well. His blue-grey gaze was weary and a bit squinted, as if he were struggling to focus on his surroundings. 

“Did you get _any_ sleep?”

“You’ve only been out for an hour, Anakin.”

“So no, then, huh?”

“You catch on fast,” Obi-Wan told him tartly.

“Glad you think so.” Anakin sent a wink his master’s way, his smirk widening when Obi-Wan only shook his head in return. Then, both of their eyes landed on Ahsoka, who happened to be completely dead to the world, and Anakin couldn’t help the warmth that filled his heart at the sight of his Padawan at peace.

“Well, at least one of us is managing to get a good rest in,” Obi-Wan offered with a soft chuckle. 

“She deserves it,” Anakin found himself replying.

“That she does.”

 _Ashoka_ _._ She was so young— _too_ young. One of many junior Padawans who had been caught in this senseless war, had learned to be battle hardened, had grown up in a galaxy far too dark for her to outshine with her pure _goodness._ She was so tenderhearted; Anakin wasn’t sure he had met a child as wonderful as his Padawan. Sometimes he reminded himself that he needed to tell her that more often. Make her _understand_.

Anakin often dreamed of what the galaxy would become once the war was over. He imagined himself, Padmé, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Rex—everyone he loved and cared about— _finally_ at peace. He imagined perhaps making his marriage to Padmé known and loving her without any limits, loving her without always feeling the need to turn and ensure that no one was watching them. He imagined Ahsoka being Knighted, becoming one of the finest Jedi in the entirety of the Order and finally experiencing the galaxy at _peace_ , the way he and Obi-Wan had when they were Padawans. He imagined Rex and the rest of his brothers finding their place within the galaxy, learning how to grapple with the fact that they were indeed _completely_ different human-beings, with different thoughts and beliefs. And he imagined Obi-Wan—

Anakin paused, finding himself at a loss for ideas.

He imagined Obi-Wan…

What did his former master want?

“Anakin.”

He looked up, met Obi-Wan’s gaze. “Yeah?”

“You should try to get some sleep.”

A sigh. “I could say the same for you.” 

“Must you always be so difficult?”

“I get it from you, Master.” Anakin smirked snidely.

“No, I’m afraid you were like this long before I took you as my Padawan,” Obi-Wan quipped without missing a beat. 

“You know you enjoy it.”

“If only that were true.” Obi-Wan busily shifted his gaze on the calm flames of the fire, but Anakin could see the smallest of smiles etched on his lips.

“Are you cold, Master?”

A long, tense pause sliced through the air. Obi-Wan didn’t meet Anakin’s eye, but it was evident that his once relaxed posture had stiffened. Anakin waited quietly.

“I’m sorry I woke you.”

“No need to apologize,” Anakin offered with a dismissive wave of his mech hand. “I could just tell that you were shaking like a leaf, that’s all.”

“Perhaps it’s because you’re hogging all of the blanket.” Obi-Wan nodded to the blanket currently enveloping his Padawan like a cocoon in amusement. At this discovery, Anakin felt his cheeks flush almost instantly.

“Sorry,” he said with a sheepish laugh, adjusting the blanket so it was spread even between both of their bodies. “I didn’t realize.”

“Quite alright,” his former master said gently, and he gave Anakin a smile—a smile that appeared so rarely within the time of their apprenticeship and the war, one that was filled with nothing but utter _affection_. 

Anakin returned it, relishing in the warmth that surged through his body at the expression. He couldn’t deny that mere special moments like these with Obi-Wan were the ones that made his heart feel like it was soaring.

“How’s that bite doing?” He then asked, attention zeroing in on the lump under Obi-Wan’s parka and tunic that was the bandage wrapped around his arm.

Obi-Wan followed his gaze and gave a shrug. “It’s fine,” he said dismissively. 

Anakin wasn’t convinced. “Really? It doesn’t hurt, then?”

Obi-Wan leveled him with an even gaze, however, when Anakin didn’t let up, he finally complied with a long-suffering sigh. “It’s...alright, I suppose,” he admitted quietly, barely resisting when Anakin came closer, resting one gentle gloved hand on his arm. “It feels... _strange_ sometimes, but I doubt it’s anything worrisome.”

 _“Right.”_ Anakin rolled his eyes once discarding his former master of his parka, his tunic, and then the bacta patch, examining the wound for the second time that night with a grimace. “I have a good feeling Kix will beg to differ, Master.”

Obi-Wan shot him a dry look. “Kix doesn’t need to know about this, Anakin.”

“For kriffing sake, Master, it’s infected!” Anakin exclaimed. He then instantly cringed when Ahsoka stirred beside him, but to his relief, she didn’t wake. Once he was sure his Padawan had settled back down, he resumed his conversation with Obi-Wan, keeping his voice low this time around. “We’re lucky it hasn’t spread yet.”

“I hardly believe it’s that serious,” Obi-Wan said.

“You can believe whatever you want,” Anakin snapped, studying the bite and the pus that was beginning to trickle out of it now that the bacta patch wasn’t holding it back. With a huff, he wrapped the bandage back around his former master’s arm, holding in the sigh of relief that threatened to escape him when no blood soaked through. 

“You needn’t fuss over me,” Obi-Wan told him wearily, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Try to get some sleep instead.”

“Okay,” Anakin said. “If you do too.”

“Easier said than done, I’m afraid,” Obi-Wan replied with a thoughtful hum, allowing his gaze to drift back to the sight of the fire before them. Anakin couldn’t help the surprised raise his eyebrows gave at the unexpected confession.

He had always known since the very beginning of their apprenticeship that his former master never really rested easily—he tended to enjoy finishing reports and attending council meetings instead—but the fact that Obi-Wan had just admitted so was a bit daunting. 

“You feelin’ alright, Master?”

“What?” Obi-Wan met his eye confusedly. “Of course. Why?”

“I don’t know,” Anakin drawled, suddenly finding the small piece of fuzz currently sitting on his parka extremely interesting. He picked at it distractedly, adding, “It’s just that... _confessing_ really isn’t one of your fortes, Master.”

Obi-Wan scoffed. “I can’t occasionally be honest with you?”

“Of course you can,” Anakin assured him. “You simply just choose _not_ to.”

There was a beat of silence after that. Anakin waited quietly for a response, and he was beginning to think he wouldn’t be getting one when Obi-Wan quietly offered: “Perhaps it’s because I don’t have much to share.”

“Oh, sure,” Anakin chuckled good-naturedly.

His former master’s features turned sharp. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“We all have secrets, Master,” Anakin continued, if a bit hesitant. There was no going back from the road he had trodden upon, so he supposed it was just best to suck it up and deal with whatever retorts Obi-Wan threw his way with patience. “Ones that we’d prefer to keep hidden from others to discover.” At his former master’s silence, he added, “Right?”

Obi-Wan simply stared at him, one ginger eyebrow cocked up dryly. “ _You_ , above all people, want to discuss keeping secrets, Anakin? _Really_?”

Anakin paused. What did that mean—

_Kriff—_

“I don’t keep secrets,” he uttered out lamely, doing everything in his power to suppress a wince at the unimpressed look Obi-Wan sent him. “Really.”

“Clearly.”

“Yep.”

“Then I suppose neither of us have anything to share,” Obi-Wan said busily, beginning to carefully pull his tunic and parka back on, although Anakin got the gist: a conclusion, that was what Obi-Wan was trying to offer. A way out of this painfully awkward conversation. 

He decided to take it. Before things could get worse.

“You know Cody’s gonna kill you when he hears about what you did.”

“And what did I do exactly?” Obi-Wan asked wearily.

“Ah, nothing too bad.” Anakin feigned a calm manner, shrugging carelessly as he did so. “You only got separated from your battalion in the middle of a blizzard, somehow ran into a wampa and ended up getting bitten by it, wrapped your wound before anyone could see it, and then proceeded to keep it a secret from us until we found out ourselves.”

Obi-Wan let out a low whistle. “You know, it all sounds pretty pathetic when you word it that way.”

“That’s because it is.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Obi-Wan assured him for what must have been the thousandth time.

“For now,” Anakin shot back, already feeling his insides beginning to burn with irritation. “You know, Master, we’re lucky your infection has transitioned into cellulitis yet. Because once that happens, I don’t think there’s anything else I can do for it until help arrives.” At this confession, Anakin surprised himself at the sudden lump he felt in his throat. Just the thought—the mere _thought_ of Obi-Wan’s life being at risk—was nauseating.

“We needn’t worry about the extremes right now.” Even through all of the panic coursing through Anakin’s body, his former master’s gentle, even tone was as calming as the fire looming before them. “Focus on the here and now, Padawan.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Anakin said with a laugh, although Obi-Wan’s words _did_ soothe his nerves the slightest bit. After a long but tranquil silence, the two doing absolutely nothing but watching the dancing flames of the fire, Anakin then turned and met his former master’s eye, and sure enough, there it was again—that same smile that reminded him of how lucky he was to have a best friend like Obi-Wan. 

“You really should get some sleep,” Obi-Wan suggested. 

“Do I look that tired?”

“As a matter of fact, you do.”

“I could say the same about you, old man.”

“But you’re going to spare me from such an insult because your master raised you right.”

Anakin chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright—I give up. You win this round, Master. But be prepared for the next one.”

“Aren’t I always?”

“Shut up,” Anakin snapped playfully, lowering himself back down on his bedroll, and he was relieved to find Obi-Wan mimicking his actions not even a moment later. Once the two of them were settled, their bodies only inches apart in their cramped proximity, he added, “Wake me up if anything doesn’t feel right, understand?”

And even though Anakin was currently looking at Obi-Wan’s back, he knew he was capable of sensing his former master’s annoyance a mile away. “You have my word, Anakin,” Obi-Wan replied dryly.

“Glad to hear it.”

“I know you are.”   
  


* * *

  
The next time Anakin awoke, it was to the sensation of someone gently tapping on his shoulder. Sleepily blinking his eyes open, and fully expecting it to be Obi-Wan, he was a bit caught off guard when he found himself facing Ahsoka instead.

“Snips?” He inquired softly.

Ahsoka had the grace to look somewhat sheepish. “Sorry, Master,” she said with a wince. “I didn’t want to wake you, but I just couldn’t stand it any longer.”

Anakin’s brow furrowed. “Couldn’t stand what?”

“It’s Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka informed him, her youthful features outlined in worry. “He won’t stop shaking.”

Now fully awake, Anakin pulled himself up into a sitting position and focused on the lump lying beside him that was Obi-Wan. His former master’s back was still facing both Anakin and Ahsoka, leaving his face hidden from view, and just as Ahsoka had claimed, he was shivering violently, even through the warm blanket enveloping his frame. 

“He’s asleep,” Anakin murmured, almost to himself as he did a quick checkup through his and Obi-Wan’s bond in the Force. It had dimmed in the past few years since Anakin had taken on Ahsoka as his Padawan, but it was nowhere even close to breaking. 

“We should wake him up,” Ahsoka suggested quietly. “You know, make sure he’s okay.”

“I agree,” Anakin replied. He leaned toward his former master and, taking great care in avoiding his injured arm, gently tapped at his side. “Master.”

Obi-Wan did not stir.

Anakin tried again. “Master.”

Nothing.

Sighing, and ignoring the smallest bit of anxiety spiking at his chest, Anakin rose to his feet and made his way around to Obi-Wan’s other side, Ahsoka quickly following his lead. Then, he kneeled and studied his former master for a brief moment, who was clearly still within the throes of a deep sleep. His face was slack and relaxed, lips parted slightly as soft, rhythmical breaths escaped past them. For a fleeting moment, Anakin considered leaving him to rest, because for once in his life, Obi-Wan appeared at _peace—_ and who would Anakin be to take that away from him?

“Master,” Ahsoka coaxed him softly, and Anakin jerked back to his senses; a checkup, that was all he was doing, and then Obi-Wan could be on his way back to a restful slumber. He would make sure of it.

“Obi-Wan.” Anakin’s voice was a bit louder this time as he reached forward and tapped the side of his former master’s face. “Wake up.”

And this time, to his relief, Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered open, revealing that familiar blue-grey, though they were completely and utterly doused with drowsiness. Anakin couldn’t help the small smile that crossed his lips at the sight. He suddenly wished he had brought along a holocamera.

“There you are,” he chuckled slightly. “Ahsoka and I were getting kinda worried.

Obi-Wan looked at him for a long time, blinking slowly. “...’kin?” He mumbled softly.

“That’s me,” Anakin joked with a grin before settling back into seriousness. “Are you still cold, Master?”

He was taken aback when Obi-Wan actually _admitted_ to his question with a heavy nod. His former master’s eyes were drooping and a bit glazed over, as if he weren’t really focusing on the sight of his Padawan looming over him. It was clear to Anakin that he still had to wake thoroughly.

“What time is it?” Obi-Wan inquired softly as he pulled himself up into a sitting position, rubbing the remaining sleep out of his eyes.

“It’s well into the middle of the night, Master,” Ahsoka answered helpfully, gesturing to the mouth of the cave where nothing but darkness and the severe snowstorm remained outside. To Anakin’s worry, it still showed no sign of stopping; the wind was howling just as wildly as it had been when they had first stumbled upon the cave for shelter.

Obi-Wan didn’t offer a reply, only running a hand through his ginger hair absentmindedly, eyes still unfocused when he suddenly let out a sharp gasp, nearly startling the Force out of both Anakin and Ahsoka as his arm limply dropped back to his side, face scrunched up in agony.

“Master—“ Ahsoka started.

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin exclaimed, unable to keep the worry from flooding his voice. “What’s wrong?”

They waited for what felt like an eternity for Obi-Wan to answer, and when the eldest Jedi finally did recollect himself, his labored breaths dying down to soft, less uneven ones, he quickly forced out a tight: “My arm.”

Anakin’s chest tightened.

“Alright, let me have a look at it,” he said gently, helping his former master out of his parka and tunic with ease, handing off the clothes to Ahsoka who took them without hesitation. Then, the moment his eyes landed on the wound enveloping Obi-Wan’s arm, Anakin felt his breath catch in his throat.

_“Kriff.”_

“Well said,” Anakin managed to his Padawan, who only stared at the gruesome sight before both of them in disbelief, her large blue eyes as wide as saucers. “Well said.”

The skin surrounding the wound scorched Obi-Wan’s arm a sickly bright red and was severely inflamed. The teeth marks of the wampa appeared to be even more deep than the last time Anakin had inspected them, the imprints gauging as more and more pus trickled out of the abscess. And all the while, blood spilled down Obi-Wan’s arm, slowly but endlessly, and Anakin knew things had severely taken a turn for the worse when he had to plug his nose to avoid smelling the pungent odor radiating from the wound. Gently, hesitantly, he placed one hand on his former master’s arm, already preparing himself for his next steps when he involuntarily jerked away at the amount of warmth emitting from Obi-Wan’s bare skin. 

_Not good._

Anakin tore his gaze away from the wound and looked into Obi-Wan’s eyes, fearful of what he might find, and sure enough, simply the look his former master gave him confirmed his suspicions.

“I...don’t feel right,” Obi-Wan confessed quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

Cloudy. Unfocused. That was what his former master’s eyes gave away almost instantly.

“Master Kenobi, you’re sweating buckets,” Ahsoka pointed out, her worry flooding through hers and Anakin’s bond, and it was then when Anakin finally became aware of the dampness of Obi-Wan’s skin, the thick coat of perspiration outlining his brow and the rest of his features, the way he violently quivered, teeth chattering so loudly Anakin didn’t have a clue as to how he hadn’t heard it before. 

“Am I?” Obi-Wan asked, and Anakin noticed with some mild alarm that he appeared to be struggling terribly to keep his gaze trained on Ahsoka. 

“You are,” Ahsoka affirmed, exchanging a concerned look with her master before redirecting her attention to Obi-Wan. “Do you feel dizzy, Master Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan only blinked at her, brain seemingly shorting out as he didn’t even offer her a reply. “...’m tired,” he finally managed after a long, tense beat while missing the meaning behind her question entirely, his Coruscanti-accent much more thicker than normal and slightly slurred. “Just think I needa’ sleep.”

“No, Obi-Wan!” Anakin instructed, perhaps a bit louder than he’d originally intended, but the urgency seemed to get across judging by the startled expression on his former master’s face. “No,” he continued, much quieter this time. “I need you to stay awake for me, okay? Just while I check out this bite here and clean it a little more. Alright, Master?” He then prodded expectantly when Obi-Wan didn’t answer.

“Don’ think I can,” Obi-Wan mumbled, his glossy eyes fluttering briefly before snapping open abruptly, as if he were already beginning to drift off. Anakin sure hoped that wasn’t the case yet. “I need sleep.”

 _“No.”_ Anakin felt a stab of guilt pierce his chest at the somewhat rough way he tilted Obi-Wan’s chin up to prevent it from dropping, but he chose to ignore it. His former master would thank him later, he was sure of it. “ _Stay awake_. That is an _order_ , Obi-Wan.”

“...thought I was the master,” Obi-Wan managed weakly, although Anakin caught the smallest smile dance across his lips before all too soon it was gone. 

“Not right now you aren’t,” Anakin replied curtly, already rummaging through his duffel bag for supplies. “Now sit still. Ahsoka—“ he nodded to his Padawan who sat straight up attentively. “Keep him awake for me, alright?”

“You got it.”

“Good.” Anakin grabbed the canteen currently lying abandoned on the cold ground and opened it, spilling some water across the wound and grimacing when Obi-Wan winced. “Sorry, Master,” he tried softly. “I know it hurts, but you gotta hang in there for me, okay?”

He wasn’t expecting a reply, but hearing his former master’s voice, even as small and as shaky as it came across, was music to Anakin’s ears.

“...’kay.”

As he began cleaning the wound, using one of their blankets as a cloth this time—he assumed blood-stained towels probably wouldn’t do the trick—Anakin felt his stomach slowly dropping further and further when he came to the realization that there was most likely nothing else he could do. 

Drowsiness, lethargy, chills, sweating, warm skin, a fever—these were all common symptoms that screamed the infection was spreading, spreading to Obi-Wan’s lymph nodes, to his bloodstream…

Anakin suddenly felt lightheaded.

Obi-Wan couldn’t die. He couldn’t.

But at the moment, all hope seemed as if it were lost.

 _No,_ Anakin thought angrily, teeth grinding together so intensely he heard them squeak, but he paid no mind to it. He couldn’t lose Obi-Wan. He _wouldn’t_ lose Obi-Wan. It simply wasn’t an option. Not so soon after his—

Tears dotted his vision at the thought of her. No, no, he needed to forget that moment, to erase it from his memory entirely so he could ignore the fact that he had killed countless innocents that night to avenge her. Killed their wives, their _children—_

Anakin tore himself from the spout of memories violently, unaware of the shuddering breath that escaped him as he did so. Luckily, Ahsoka seemed to be keeping busy in enternating Obi-Wan, so it wasn’t like she had noticed.

 _Good._ Good.

He then returned to his task, jaw clenched and muscles taut as he gently dabbed at the wound, frown deepening at the splotch of red that came away with the dark blanket when he pulled away. 

Obi-Wan wouldn’t die. Not on his watch.

He couldn’t.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Ahsoka discuss the forbiddance of attachment after confiding in one another that they are both worried for Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan’s condition worsens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! It took me a little longer to update this time, but here is the next chapter! I actually thought some more ahead and decided that this fic will be five chapters instead of four, so I hope that’s considered a treat for everyone! We all get a little more of our favorite trio than we expected!

“What’s your favorite color, Master Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan shot her a curious look, one single ginger brow cocking up a bit at her question. Ahsoka, in all truth, _did_ feel pretty stupid for asking such a thing, but Anakin had given her strict orders, and as long as she was keeping her grandmaster awake, she was doing her job. 

“I dunno...blue, I s’pose,” Obi-Wan replied tiredly, blue-grey eyes beginning to flutter. “Why?”

“Mine is green,” Ahsoka informed him, dodging his own question entirely with a bright smile. “I guess it makes sense, right? Your favorite color is blue, and you have a blue lightsaber, and my favorite color is green, and I have two green lightsabers.” Then, fixing her gaze on Anakin in hopes to invite him into their conversation, she asked, “Hey, Master, what’s your favorite color?”

“Black,” Anakin muttered distractedly, digging busily through his duffel bag for what Ahsoka assumed was more supplies. He turned up empty handed with a scowl.

“I guess it doesn’t make sense, then.” Ahsoka returned her attention back to Obi-Wan with a shrug. “Skyguy ruined the pattern.”

Obi-Wan simply smiled knowingly while Anakin rolled his eyes.

“Next question,” Ahsoka continued smoothly, although she noticed the slightest hint of impatience flash across her grandmaster’s features—an expression she knew Obi-Wan normally would have never allowed upon his face had he not been ill with fever—and willed herself to focus as a result. She needed to continue to keep him alert. “What’s your most memorable moment as a Padawan?”

“That’s a good one,” Anakin chimed in with another dab of the blanket against Obi-Wan’s wound, resulting in a flinch to escape past the eldest Jedi. “Sorry, Master.”

“Don’ worry ‘bout it,” Obi-Wan managed with a wave of his opposite hand in dismissal. 

“Most memorable moment, Master?” Ahsoka asked expectantly, trying to shake off her worry at the thickness lacing her grandmaster’s accented voice; to hear Obi-Wan, who normally spoke with such distinguished and polished tones, sound so weak and ungraceful...well, it was just a bit unsettling for her. 

“I’m almost finished,” Anakin alerted them both assuringly before the eldest Jedi had the opportunity to answer, already preparing a second bacta patch. “And then Obi-Wan can be back on his way to dreamland.”

Ahsoka smirked in amusement while her grandmaster nodded gratefully.

“Need any help?” She offered.

Anakin shot her an appreciative smile. “Thanks, but I’ve got it covered, Snips. You just keep focusing on getting Obi-Wan to spill all of his secrets to us.”

“I’m _right here_ , y’know,” Obi-Wan grumbled.

“We’re not blind,” Anakin replied sweetly in return.

“You know, I hardly think Master Kenobi would have the energy to even stay _awake_ , much less spill all of his secrets, don’t you think?” Ahsoka pointed out, pursing her lips together teasingly.

“I bet you’re right.” Anakin rapidly got to work on expertly wrapping the bandage around Obi-Wan’s wound, grimacing each time he felt the eldest Jedi flinch under his touch. “Almost done, here. Just hang on with me a little longer, Master.”

“Not goin’ anywhere,'' Obi-Wan answered quietly. “Never have.”

Ahsoka almost instantly felt her master’s Force presence turn to ice through their training bond. 

“What?” Anakin questioned softly, voice strangely hoarse.

But Obi-Wan already seemed to have forgotten he’d said such a thing. His blue-grey gaze slowly trailed to his former Padawan as he said, “You almost done? ‘Cuz ‘m tired.”

Anakin appeared to snap back to reality, then. He blinked, as if surfacing from a light trance and continued his work of wrapping the wound. “Yeah, yeah,” he replied distractedly. “Yeah, I’m almost done. Just give me a second.”

And true to his word, Anakin finished his task not even a moment later with a flourish, Ahsoka then wordlessly handing him Obi-Wan’s parka and tunic, which he helped his master into both with ease. They were all silent along the way, too, the quietude strangely a bit uncomfortable. Obi-Wan simply seemed exhausted and in need of a restful sleep, which explained his current silence, but _Anakin_ …well, his presence in the Force was now muted, as if he were desperately trying to hide something from Ahsoka.

What was _that_ about?

“Here, lay in my bedroll, Master.” Anakin gently guided Obi-Wan into what had previously been his sleeping spot without hesitation. “That way, Ahsoka and I can keep you warm on the sides.”

The eldest Jedi curled up on his side, injured arm wrapped around his torso, and Anakin swaddled him up in blankets before he could even close his eyes. Obi-Wan let out the smallest exasperated huff, but he didn’t really seem to mind the added warmth.

“Sleep well, Master,” Anakin told him quietly. “Ahsoka and I will watch over you.”

Obi-Wan sent a wry smile up his way. “Not an invalid.”

“Sure you aren’t. Now go to sleep.”

_“‘kin—“_

“Don’t make me give you a sleep suggestion, old man, because I _will_.”

It was then when Obi-Wan finally surrendered with a long-suffering sigh, nuzzling deeper into the blankets he was currently cocooned in. His eyes slipped closed quickly, breaths already beginning to even out as well. Ahsoka sensed that in less than a moment he would be fast asleep.

She and Anakin sat in that calm, tranquil silence for a long while, listening to the soft puffs of air escaping past Obi-Wan’s lips in comfort. In the fact of knowing he was indeed _alive_ and only suffering from a fever and mild infection. In assurance that nothing bad was happening, that he was simply _asleep_ and regaining his strength. That they would soon get help and—

“You’re worried.”

Ahsoka transfixed her gaze from the fire to the sight of her master sitting beside her. He had a vacant look in his bright blue eyes, a clear indication that he had been doing some thinking of his own.

“I know I shouldn’t be,” she replied quietly after a long beat.

“Hey,” Anakin began gently, and the tenderness lacing his voice nearly had Ahsoka startling. It informed her that what her master had to say was most likely very important, and it had definitely succeeded in grabbing her attention. 

“Yeah?” She asked softly.

“You don’t need to feel ashamed for being worried. It’s only natural, Ahsoka.”

“But Jedi aren’t supposed to have attachments.” Ahsoka’s chest tightened at the taut words rolling off her tongue, but she forced herself to continue. It wasn’t very often when she had this certain discussion with Anakin. In fact, she believed the heavy topic had only been brought up once during the entirety of their apprenticeship. “So, isn’t worrying about Master Obi-Wan considered wrong?”

“Jedi are _beings_ , Ahsoka, not droids.” Anakin gave her a soft, teasing smile. “We’re allowed to have feelings—but just as long as we don’t allow them to overtake us and cloud our thinking.”

“But doesn’t the Code itself say _‘there is no emotion, there is peace’_?”

“Well...I’ve kind of learned to see that philosophy in shades of grey,” Anakin admitted with a small shrug. At Ahsoka’s peculiar look, he chuckled and continued. “Because as Jedi, we’re supposed to be compassionate, right? But without emotion, how can we be? It just doesn’t really add up when you think about it.”

Ahsoka paused, slowly soaking her master’s words in. “I...guess you have a point there.”

“And that’s why I’ve come to realize that Jedi _do_ feel emotion. As peacekeepers, we’re always helping people. Always being compassionate. We _care_ about the people we’re aiding. We don’t want anything bad to happen to them.”

A long silence. Ahsoka was beginning to conclude that Anakin wasn’t going to say anything more when he opened his mouth again, although he sounded far away. Distant. As if his mind were in fact completely somewhere else.

“Compassion, in my opinion, is something I would define as unconditional love. An emotion that I dare say is essential to a Jedi’s life.”

Ahsoka couldn’t hold back her protest any longer. “But...I don’t understand,” she said, feeling a wave of frustration surge through her body at her confusion. “You say compassion is unconditional love, but love goes against everything the Jedi stand for.” At her master’s agonizing silence, she asked, “What am I missing here?”

For the first time since the beginning of their discussion, Anakin truly met her gaze, his bright blue eyes piercing within the darkness around them. They were sharp. Alert. Contemplative. Ahsoka wasn’t sure she had ever witnessed her master in such a state of pensiveness. Not even when in the midst of meditation.

Although, to be fair, Anakin had never really been fond of meditation anyway.

“Ahsoka, the act of loving unconditionally is loving without attachment. Loving without expecting anything in return. Loving even while knowing that one day you might have to let them go.”

And for a while, neither Anakin or Ahsoka offered anymore words. They simply sat still in the quietude for the second time that night, eyes calmly wandering to each flickering flame of the fire, ears keenly listening to the crackles of the wood. Obi-Wan, meanwhile, remained fast asleep, his soft, even breaths still a soothing sound to both of their ears. The wind outside the cave remained hostile, but somehow, it contributed to the wonderful plethora of peaceful noises, strangely bringing Ahsoka nothing but utter tranquility.

Things would be just fine. She was sure of it. After all, how could one worry when the Force layering around them was providing her with such _peace_?

“You can be pretty wise when you want to be, Master, you know that?”

Anakin grinned, his gaze, however, still not leaving the fire. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended, Snips.”

“Maybe a little bit of both.” Ahsoka couldn’t help her own smirk.

Both of their eyes simultaneously landed on Obi-Wan, then. He still remained completely dead to the world, clearly not even the slightest bit aware of the discussion taking place. Ahsoka once again tried not to let this worry her. Her grandmaster was usually always a light sleeper. Until now, that was.

“You think he’ll be okay?” She couldn’t help but ask softly.

Anakin didn’t answer for a long moment. Ahsoka attempted to decipher the carefully blank expression etched on his features as he studied Obi-Wan but to no avail. Their bond was also eerily muted, much to her annoyance.

“He’s Obi-Wan,” Anakin suddenly stated confidently, a broad smile forming on his lips. “He always ends up okay.”

His words surprisingly soothed Ahsoka. Her master was right. There was no doubt that Obi-Wan had been through many hardships in his life, especially during the war, but he always prevailed. He always rose above no matter how hard things became.

“You’re not wrong,” she replied with her own small smile.

“When am I ever, Snips?”

“Alright, _now_ you’re getting ahead of yourself, Skyguy.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Never, Master.”   
  


* * *

  
She wasn’t exactly sure when she had fallen asleep. Blue eyes fluttering open tiredly, Ahsoka vaguely remembered Anakin insisting that she get some rest while he monitored Obi-Wan, and she had taken him up on his offer almost instantly; war, unfortunately, didn’t leave much time for sleep.

But as she pulled herself from within her hazy state and forced it upon herself to focus, Ahsoka scanned her surroundings, attempting to figure out what had woken her and why it had. Her gaze then landed on Anakin lying dead asleep at Obi-Wan’s other side, and she couldn’t help the amused eye roll she gave at the sight.

_So much for monitoring your master, huh, Skyguy?_

But then, not even a moment had passed before Ahsoka’s blood was freezing at the sudden overflowing amount of _distress_ wailing in the Force. She heard herself gasp at the sensation, and she was almost certain that had she been standing, she would have stumbled. _Who_ in the galaxy was displaying such—

Anakin sprung up, blue eyes popping open as he sucked in a sharp breath. He was alert instantly, head jerking to Ahsoka, who was already sitting up, and she watched his expression transform from confused to worried.

“Do you feel that?” He asked her.

“Yeah,” she answered quietly, greatly failing in hiding the worry in her voice. “What is it?”

“I don’t know—“ Anakin abruptly trailed off, eyes widening when he suddenly breathed, _“Obi-Wan.”_

“Obi-Wan?” Ahsoka echoed incredulously. “What about him? He’s sleeping.”

But Anakin wasn’t listening to her. He was looming over his former master’s prone form and shaking him awake, if a bit roughly. “Obi-Wan.”

“Master,” Ahsoka hissed. “What are you doing?”

Anakin didn’t offer her a reply. He continued about, shaking Obi-Wan as if it were mandatory that he wake up _immediately_ , but the eldest Jedi didn’t stir. For a fleeting moment, Ahsoka felt a spike of fear stab at her chest at his odd stillness, but when Anakin placed his mech hand on Obi-Wan’s injured arm as a last resort, she released a breath she didn’t know she was holding in when her grandmaster jerked to life, blue-grey eyes snapping open that were laced with pain.

“‘kin, _what’re_ you doin’—“

“Why did it take you so long to wake up?” Anakin demanded, features sharp.

Obi-Wan groaned softly, placing a gloved hand to his head. “Maybe ‘cuz I was _sleeping_?”

“That answer isn't _good_ enough.”

 _“Master.”_ Ahsoka glared at Anakin with a face none of them knew she was capable of making. “You need to stop. _Calm down_.”

“He’s getting worse,” Anakin informed her, mirroring her gaze with perhaps even more hostility. “We need to do _something_. Take off your parka and tunic, Master. _Master!_ ”

Obi-Wan snapped awake, then, with a slight gasp that had Ahsoka cringing. “Hmm?” He mumbled sleepily.

 _“Stay awake,”_ Anakin commanded firmly. “I’m gonna check out that infection and see how it’s holding up. Here, I’ll help you out of those.” He then aided his former master by relieving him of his parka and tunic and letting them drop to the ground. “Want a blanket?”

Obi-Wan gave a dip of his head that resembled something like a nod, but Ahsoka thought it looked more like he was dropping off. His head...he made it look so _heavy._

Anakin draped the blankets over his former master’s exposed form with his rare touch of gentleness, and Ahsoka saw the gleam within his bright blue eyes that sparked with a flash of great concern. She knew he was worried.

The added warmth, even as cozy as it appeared, didn’t seem to help Obi-Wan very much. His teeth chattered endlessly, and the entirety of his body seemed to be trembling to the bone. His blue-grey eyes were at half-mast, the expression lingering inside them reflecting a mix of weariness, pain, and a bit of confusion. 

_Not good._

Anakin then tenderly pulled Obi-Wan’s arm out from under the blanket, his gloved hands barely ghosting over the bare skin, and the choked grunt that escaped past the eldest Jedi’s lips, clearly one that had been against his will, had Ahsoka swallowing thickly at the sound. The brief wave of guilt washing through hers and Anakin’s bond instantly told her that her master felt horrible as well.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin breathed softly. “I’m sorry.”

Obi-Wan weakly shook his head, blue-grey eyes scrunching shut. “—s’okay,” he replied, voice so quiet Ahsoka almost didn’t hear it. However, the agony drenching it was all too apparent.

“This is bad.” Anakin slowly released a heavy exhale once having removed the bandage, head moving from side to side in what appeared to be disbelief as he examined his former master’s wound. “ _Kriff_ , this is bad.”

And even though the mere _thought_ of sneaking a single glimpse at the wound had Ahsoka reeling, she couldn’t resist. Her eyes nervously focused on their target before she could decide against it, and it took nearly everything within her power to keep from gagging at the sight.

“It’s spreading,” she pointed out, identifying the bright red streaks slowly moving both up and down Obi-Wan’s arm as her proof. “Master, what’s next?”

“I don’t know,” Anakin mumbled, placing a gloved hand over his mouth as he pondered deeply. Ahsoka watched him, hopeful for any ideas to come spurting from his lips, even with as impulsive and dangerous they could end up sometimes, but this time, he surfaced with none. 

“We’ll just have to wait it out ‘till morning, then,” Ahsoka finalized quietly, the intensity slicing through the air almost unbearable. “Just like you said: Rex and Cody should be looking for us at first light, right?”

Anakin sighed, his blue eyes drifting to the ground. “I’m not sure Obi-Wan has that long, Ahsoka.”

Gaze then flicking to her grandmaster, her brain shorting out at Anakin’s blunt confession, Ahsoka quickly concluded that, even as much as she hated to admit it, Obi-Wan would be fading fast if they didn’t do _something_. 

“Can you Force heal?” 

Anakin’s head whipped around to face Ahsoka incredulously. “What?”

“You heard me, Master.”

“I—“ Anakin hastily cut himself off, expression completely and utterly stricken. “No—I can’t.” He paused for a brief moment, seemingly contemplating his options before adding determinedly, “But I can learn.”

“Are you sure?” Ahsoka couldn’t keep the concern from trickling into her voice. “What if it backfires or…?”

“We don’t have time to worry about that.”

Ahsoka flinched a bit at the harshness scorching Anakin’s tone, but she allowed the dig to slide, knowing full well how worried her master was; he hadn’t meant any harm by his words, she was sure of it. So, she gave a shallow dip of her head and scooted back a bit, allowing Anakin some room to work. Force knew he needed it.

“Hey, _Obi-Wan—_ “ Anakin’s voice was gentle, but there was a hidden firmness beneath it. 

Obi-Wan’s bleary gaze barely met his former Padawan’s own.

“Everything’s going to be okay. Just stay focused on Ahsoka; she’s going to keep you busy while I work on healing this wound, alright?”

“Dangerous,” Obi-Wan told him, his Coruscanti-accent now as thick as butter. “You don’ know the consequences, ‘kin. Could...could k-kill you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“ _No_ , ‘kin, please don’—“

But Ahsoka knew that Anakin would as of then be immune to his former master’s protests. His eyes were sealed shut, his youthful features radiating nothing but tranquility as the shadows of the flames danced across his face. His flesh hand was currently resting on Obi-Wan’s forearm, a good distance away from the wound enveloping the upper area.

But perhaps, the most intriguing thing of all was how powerful Anakin felt through their bond.

The _energy_ her master was flooding the Force with at the moment...it was unlike any sensation Ahsoka had felt in her life.

Obi-Wan sucked in a sharp breath, eyes uncharacteristically wide as they were firmly locked onto the sight of his former Padawan—despite Anakin’s insistence that he stay focused on Ahsoka instead—but he refrained from uttering a single word.

It had to have been working for Anakin to elicit such a reaction from him, didn’t it?

Eyes darting to the wound scorching her grandmaster’s arm, Ahsoka gasped at the realization that a few red streaks had vanished into thin air. The bite, however, remained as severe as it had been before, but Ahsoka inwardly reminded herself to stay positive; it was a start, right?

Suddenly Anakin withdrew his hand from Obi-Wan’s arm and nearly fell backward even despite the fact that he was kneeling, and it was Ahsoka that prevented him from collapsing. With an involuntary shout, she pulled him back up into a sitting position, unable to keep the fear from spilling onto her features.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

Anakin managed a heavy nod, his breaths ragged and labored. “Yeah,” he panted. “I can’t do anymore than that, though. I’ll collapse.”

“It was enough,” Ahsoka assured him.

Her master closed his eyes. “For now,” he added discouragingly.

“You slowed down the spreading,” Ahsoka said firmly. “I’d say that should buy us more time, don’t you think?”

“Th...th-thank you,” came a soft, gentle voice.

Both Ahsoka and Anakin’s heads whipped to the side simultaneously to face the eldest Jedi. Obi-Wan, still, looked severely worse for wear, his thick, ginger hair slightly disheveled and dense coat of sweat outlining his features, but nevertheless, nothing but gratefulness was shining through his glossy blue-grey eyes. 

“You don’t need to thank me, Master,” Anakin told him, if a bit ashamedly. “I _tried_ , but I don’t think it really helped.”

“It did,” Obi-Wan managed with the smallest quirk of his lips. “Like ‘soka said...s-slowed down the spreading, right?”

“You still have the rest of the night to get through, if I may remind you,” Anakin snapped. “We don’t have any idea if I actually helped at all.”

“Y’did,” Obi-Wan said without missing a beat. Despite how physically weak he currently appeared at the moment, Ahsoka was a bit surprised at the pure amount of certainty lacing his tone. “Felt it.”

Anakin perked up at that. “You did?”

His former master simply hummed his confirmation.

“What did it feel like?” Ahsoka chimed in curiously.

Obi-Wan paused, his already glossy gaze unfocusing some more. “Felt...protected. Safe. Like no one c-could hurt me.” A chill ran down his spine, then, and Ahsoka impulsively felt a mad urge to throw her arms around him and provide him with warmth, but his words had caught her attention and driven her to stillness. “L-like...everything, for once, w-would be ok-kay.”

Ahsoka froze in her tracks. Beside her, she could feel Anakin almost instantly stiffen. For the briefest moment she felt a wave of disbelief and grief wash through their bond before her master’s mental shields slammed in place. She tried not to glare at him.

“Do you still feel that way now, Master?” Anakin sounded strangely small.

Obi-Wan shook his head slightly. “Darkness...the d-dark...s’ back.”

“The darkness?” Ahsoka echoed in surprise. “Like the dark side of the Force?” A surge of fear coursed through her veins. Was her grandmaster struggling in avoiding the temptation of the dark side? He couldn’t be. He was Obi-Wan. The purest Jedi she had ever met.

“No.” Her grandmaster released a heavy sigh, although it came across as shaky. “Feels...lonely. Like...no one's th-there. F-feels like...one dying candle in th-th...the darkness.”

A chill seemed to settle in the air, then. Ahsoka didn’t know what to say. One glimpse at Anakin informed her that he had been rendered speechless as well. His eyes were wide as he simply stared at Obi-Wan, lips slightly parted in what looked to be surprise.

“Who’s the candle?” Anakin suddenly asked, voice strangely hoarse once again.

Silence. It was a rhetorical question. They all knew the answer.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin almost sounded pleading now. “Do you always feel like this?”

Another agonizing quietude. Ahsoka noticed that her grandmaster didn’t even really seem to be aware of the fact that Anakin had just spoken to him. His blue-grey eyes were slowly drooping, his head having dipped a bit forward as well. He looked as if he were going to pass out on the spot.

“I…’m tired, ‘kin.” Obi-Wan didn’t even have the strength to look his former Padawan in the eye anymore.

“That...that’s okay,” Anakin said rushedly. “Here, Ahsoka and I will help you settle down. Snips—“ he nodded to Ahsoka, who wordlessly passed him Obi-Wan’s parka and tunic. “Thanks.”

A few minutes later Obi-Wan was dressed in his tunic and parka again, completely out cold and cocooned in blankets. The quiet, even breaths escaping past his lips were far more shaky than the last time he had slept, much to Ahsoka’s concern. She turned to face Anakin and watched him study the prone form of his former master silently, his expression frustratingly unreadable. He also gave no indication of his emotions through their bond either. 

“Master?” Ahsoka called out hesitantly. He had to answer. She _needed_ him to answer.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Anakin reached down, brushing back a strand of ginger hair that had fallen into Obi-Wan’s closed eyes. His former master stirred at the touch, but he didn’t wake. “We just need to make sure to take care of him, Snips, alright?”

“Of course.” Ahsoka gave a nod of her head. In all truth, her reply sounded a bit awkward, but she just felt that there were really no specific words to offer her master. It was clear the only thing that would bring him peace was the sight of Obi-Wan alive, healthy, and well in the end.

But now, none of them were sure that could even be a possibility anymore.

The sound of Ahsoka’s stomach rumbling broke the tense silence. She forced out an embarrassed laugh, spirit only lightening slightly at the smile Anakin shot her with, and reached for one of their duffel bags which contained an unnecessary large amount of ration bars. Grabbing one, she ripped it open and was about to return to her spot on her bedroll when she heard her master speak in low, hushed tones. He was leaning over Obi-Wan’s sleeping form yet again, his bright blue eyes softening as he soaked the sight of his former master in.

“You’ve never been alone, Obi-Wan.”

Ahsoka’s chest tightened. She watched Anakin swallow thickly.

“Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of ironic and heartbreaking for Anakin to teach Ashoka about the rule of attachment and sound so wise about it when in the end, it’s his love for Padmé that eventually causes his downfall, isn’t it? Hope that didn’t hurt too much for you readers! It definitely hurt me!
> 
> Next chapter will be up ASAP!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin tells Ashoka a snippet about Obi-Wan’s past. After Obi-Wan seems to be on the mend, Ashoka believes that Anakin’s small bout of Force healing might have done the trick.
> 
> Never had she been more wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I am SO sorry for taking over a month to update. I’ve been so busy since the New Year and have found time for writing to be extremely difficult. However, the 4th chapter is finally here! I hope you enjoy it! The final chapter will be posted ASAP!

Anakin didn’t sleep.

He couldn’t.

Ahsoka had drifted off a while earlier, despite claiming that she wasn’t all that tired, and Anakin had only shook his head and insisted she get some rest; Force knew everyone needed it during this time in war. 

And Obi-Wan…

Anakin just flinched at the thought of him.

His former master’s words were engraved in Anakin’s mind like a knife, no matter how hard he tried to release them from his memory. He wondered if Obi-Wan had meant them. He wondered if it was merely the fever talking. But these questions would remain unanswered as long as his former master remained asleep.

_Felt...protected. Safe. Like no one could hurt me._

Anakin squeezed his eyes shut. It was as if Obi-Wan were speaking right into his ear.

_Like...everything, for once, would be okay._

His chest tightened. 

_Feels...lonely. Like...no one's there. Feels like...one dying candle in the...the darkness._

Anakin knew what that felt like more than anything. 

But then, he had Padmé, who happened to be the light of joy in his life that was a constant reminder to him that not everything in the world was filled with cruelty—that some things could be flowing with nothing but utter goodness. 

Like Padmé herself, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Rex…

If something happened to even one of them, Anakin didn’t know what he would do.

His gaze flicked back to the sight of his former master lying asleep beside him.

There were at least five hours until the sun rose. Until Anakin could go searching for Rex and Cody and finally get Obi-Wan the medical aid he so desperately needed. Until he could murder his former master himself once Obi-Wan was stable again for hiding yet another injury and having the nerve to play it off as it were nothing but a scratch. 

“And you thought _I’d_ be the death of you,” Anakin muttered irritably at Obi-Wan, who gave no indication whatsoever that he had heard him. “If _anyone_ is to blame for when you die, I guarantee it will be absolutely no one but _yourself_ , old man.”

He wasn’t sure he liked the eerie quietude that repaid him. All he wanted was to witness his former master sit up, shoot him with that familiar dry, yet amused smile, and offer a witty quip in return. But Obi-Wan did none of these things; instead, he shook like a leaf, even while being completely and utterly swamped in blankets and near the warmth of the fire, the sight of his teeth chattering erratically a strange one compared to the relaxation and slackness of the rest of his features.

Anakin frowned.

Would Obi-Wan even make it to sunrise?

“I can hear you thinking from here.”

Jerking from his contemplative state, Anakin turned to find Ahsoka tiredly propping herself up on one elbow. He cringed at himself, but she only smiled and gave a small shrug.

“I’m sorry, Snips, I didn’t mean for you to—“

“Don’t worry about it. I know it’s hard.”

Anakin merely sent Ahsoka an appreciative tendril through their bond in the Force, not really having the best of words prepared to speak verbally. He couldn’t help the smile that grew on his lips when he received a warm burst of comfort in return.

“I’ll never understand why he goes out of his way to avoid telling us of his injuries,” Ahsoka shared with a weary shake of her head. Anakin snorted in agreement.

“You and me both, Snips. You and me both.”

“Was he the same way when you were his Padawan?” Ahsoka prodded curiously.

“The worst,” Anakin informed her. “Whenever I got injured and didn’t say anything—which for the matter, was _rarely_ —that was usually the closest he ever came to losing his cool in front of me.”

“Really? Master Kenobi, losing his cool? I can’t picture that.”

“I’ve only seen it happen a few times, so it’s not like it’s a common thing.”

“When were the other times?”

Anakin snorted, his thoughts immediately wandering to when he and Obi-Wan had taken a pleasant elevator ride aboard the _Coronet,_ and he had contained the guts to ask his former master if he and a certain duchess were ever—

Well...he had never earned an answer for that question. 

“What is it?” Ahsoka prodded. “You’re thinking about something, I can tell.”

“Alright,” Anakin quickly conceded with a knowing smirk. “You remember Duchess Satine, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Ahsoka answered immediately. “We worked alongside each other and the cadets on my solo mission to stop Prime Minister Almec from establishing the black markets.”

“Yeah, well...don’t tell Obi-Wan I said this to you, but he and Satine _definitely_ have a history together. He protected her for over a year during the Mandalorian civil war when he was a Padawan, and despite him claiming that _he couldn’t allow his feelings to get in the way_ , or that _it was better that they eventually went down different paths_ , it’s clear they both have something going for each other.”

“What?” Ahsoka gasped, bright blue eyes widening in shock before she then quickly snapped her fingers, as if remembering something. “Wait a second...I _knew_ the duchess had some weird sparkle in her eye when it was mentioned that Master Kenobi was responsible for the weapon-ban on Mandalore.”

“He kinda tends to get in more trouble than he usually does when he’s around her,” Anakin informed her amusedly. “I would say it’s because he gets nervous.”

“Wow.” Ahsoka shook her head in visible disbelief, though unable to keep the bright smile off her face. “So, the duchess is technically Master Kenobi’s crush, then, huh?”

“Uh...I would take it up a few notches there, Snips.” Anakin choked back a laugh when his Padawan looked at him incredulously, if a bit confused, as well.

“Seriously?” She asked. “What, you think they’ve kissed before…?”

“Oh, definitely,” Anakin said without missing a beat. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if they went even farther than that—“

_“Master.”_

Anakin paused. “Yeah?”

“I don’t need the burden of having that image in my head.”

Anakin couldn’t hold his laugh in anymore after hearing that.

Unfortunately, though, the commotion was too loud for even Obi-Wan to sleep through, and he woke fairly quickly to the sounds of his former Padawan trying to keep his wheezes in with a soft groan and a hand to his head.

“Master!” Ahsoka exclaimed, if a bit alarmed. “You’re...awake.”

“Why do you sound so disappointed?” Obi-Wan muttered as he propped himself up on his elbows with a shaky breath. His blue-grey eyes were droopy and still foggy with sleep—an expression that rarely happened to make its way upon his features for as long as Anakin had known him.

“How are you feeling, Master?” Ahsoka asked quietly, scooting closer to him seemingly without realizing it.

“Fine,” Obi-Wan told her with a soft, little smile that made something inside Anakin’s heart twinge. “I’ve been through worse.”

“You sound better,” Anakin pointed out hopefully. “You’re not slurring your speech anymore.”

“The effort is taking quite a toll, my friend,” Obi-Wan informed him with a halfhearted chuckle, although it sounded more weak than amused. At Anakin’s concerned look, he sent his former Padawan a wave of assurance in the Force, and even though it didn’t comfort Anakin in the slightest, he responded with a pang of comfort in return. 

“Hungry?” Ahsoka offered Obi-Wan a ration bar. He declined it with a polite shake of his head and wave of his hand, this action only further deepening the frown on Anakin’s lips.

“Master—“

“I’m not hungry,” Obi-Wan informed him calmly.

“You need to save your strength.”

“He should be alright, Master,” Ahsoka cut in gracefully. “I wouldn’t bother him too much about it.”

“You hear that, ‘kin?” Obi-Wan stifled a yawn—although it was still extremely obvious—and fixed Anakin with a small, pleased smile. “Listen to your Padawan.”

“The only things I want you doing while we’re stuck here is eating and sleeping.” Anakin really didn’t have the patience for humor at the moment— _especially_ since he had just heard Obi-Wan slur his name again. “So, if you’re not going to eat, then you need to lay back down.”

“I am, I am,” his former master muttered, resuming back to his previous position with surprisingly no arguments. His eyes quickly fluttered closed, his breathing gradually beginning to slow, and a few minutes had passed when Anakin assumed he had fallen back asleep, only for Obi-Wan to suddenly ask, “What were you two discussing?”

Anakin froze. Ahsoka choked on the ration bar she was currently munching on and let out a strangled cough. Obi-Wan’s eyes snapped back open at this, and he sent his grandpadawan a concerned expression as he waited for her to compose herself. When she finally did, she placed a hand atop her chest, sucking in loud, desperate breaths and held out her index finger in a cue to give her another moment. Anakin and Obi-Wan complied.

“Sorry,” Ahsoka gasped, face flushed from either the coughing or embarrassment, Anakin wasn’t completely sure. He had a hunch it could have been a bit of both. “What did you say again, Master?”

“He asked what we were discussing,” Anakin reminded her, although through their bond, he could very much sense that Ahsoka hadn’t forgotten what Obi-Wan’s question had been in the slightest. “And I guess you could say we were talking about _you_ , Master.” 

“And your health at the moment, that is,” Ahsoka added, if a bit rushed.

That last part was clearly a lie, but neither of them had to mention that to Obi-Wan, did they?

“I’ll be alright,” Obi-Wan assured them for what must have been the thousandth time by now, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. “Just need some rest, I think.”

“Yeah, _you think_ ,” Anakin said with an exasperated roll of his eyes. 

To his surprise, again, his former master didn’t argue. Instead, he only gave what sounded to be a sleepy hum, blue-grey eyes slowly sliding shut. A long silence followed after that, then, and Anakin wondered for the second time now if Obi-Wan had drifted off when this time, it was Ahsoka who broke the quietude. 

“Did you go on an extended mission when you were younger, Master Kenobi?”

Anakin could have sworn he felt his heart momentarily stop.

Obi-Wan blinked his eyes open, looking a bit disoriented, as if he had briefly fallen asleep for a few moments, and fixed his grandpadawan with a slightly confused expression, ginger brow furrowing. “I did,” he answered her slowly, tone layered with a bit of caution. “Who told you that?”

Stupid, stupid Ahsoka. Anakin had _told_ her not to say anything—

“He did.” His Padawan gestured to him with a casual incline of her head. At this, Obi-Wan looked at Anakin pointedly, his features reading nothing but: _what in the blazes did you tell her?_

It took everything within Anakin’s power not to flush at the amount of attention he was being bombarded with at the moment. Kriff it, he was going to _kill_ Ahsoka if Obi-Wan ended up surviving this—

“The reason I asked is because,” Ahsoka continued with a frustratingly impressive amount of tranquility, “I was wondering when the Council might deem _me_ worthy enough for an extended mission. It seems like a pretty big deal.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan clearly hadn’t been expecting _that_. “Well...I suppose it mostly depends on your age. I was seventeen when the Council assigned me my first extended mission, so I’d imagine you shouldn’t be too far off from receiving your first one—especially with how much you’ve grown in your skills as a young Jedi.”

Ahsoka beamed. “Thank you, Master,” she said with a grateful smile. “So...what did _you_ do on your extended mission? How long did it last?”

“I spent a year on Mandalore protecting a duchess while her planet was in turmoil.” Obi-Wan seemed to have calmed now, no longer shooting his former Padawan accusatory looks anymore. Ahsoka had surprisingly covered far more expertly than Anakin thought she would. “I believe you might have met her once.”

“You know what? I think I did—“ Ahsoka snapped her fingers twice, greatly faking a moment a clarity. “Duchess Satine Kryze, isn’t it?”

Obi-Wan nodded his confirmation. “It was quite the daunting assignment. Mercenaries who didn’t agree with the planet’s newfound ways of peace rebelled, causing a civil war to break out. My master and I were ordered to keep the duchess away from any danger until we were given news that it was safe to return her to her kingdom. And as you can see, it took quite a while until we were able to do just that.”

“Was it action packed?” Ahsoka asked curiously. “Did they send people after you to capture the duchess?”

“We were always on the run,” Obi-Wan informed her, a little smile gracing his tired features—one that Anakin had seen so rarely in the time he had known his master. “Things happened all the time. We learned to expect the unexpected. That was what kept us alive, I think.”

Anakin heaved a heavy sigh, and after short contemplation, said, “Alright, now off to bed with you, Master. You _know_ you’re tired when you start saying ‘ _I think_ ’ at the end of your sentences.” Beside him, he could hear Ahsoka giggle and mumble something that sounded like an agreement. 

“I think you’re right,” Obi-Wan said with a soft, teasing smile.

“Shut up,” Anakin replied, although he couldn’t erase the small smirk of his lips, nor could he rid the warmth inside his heart. “And go to sleep.”

“You know, I think you helped Master Kenobi a lot more than you think you did, Master,” Ahsoka informed Anakin a few minutes later after Obi-Wan had dropped off, a small smile gracing her youthful features. “Just look at him; he looks better, he _sounds_ better—actually more _coherent_ this time—and he didn’t complain about his arm even once. That has to be progress, right?”

“I guess, but you always have to remember that Obi-Wan is a master at hiding things. Injuries for one,” Anakin reminded her. 

“I don’t know. He seemed pretty sincere to me.” Ahsoka smiled at him and gave an unknowing shrug. “All I can say is, we’ve got about four hours until the sun rises. I think Master Kenobi is strong enough to endure that.”

“I hope you're right,” Anakin said.

A long while passed after that. Anakin assumed it had to have been an hour, at least. Ahsoka didn’t sleep this time. Instead, both she and Anakin engaged in casual conversation, whether the subject be about Ahsoka’s studies, a new ‘saber form she was learning, how irritated yet fretful Cody would be when he found his general in such a condition, or even how wonderful the sensation of being enshrouded in warmth would be when they were finally rescued. All of it was very soothing to Anakin; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d just been able to sit down and _catch up_ with his Padawan. It felt like it had been a lifetime. 

“And then Barriss just _stared_ at me.” Ahsoka was in the middle of a story where she had been sparring against one of the other Padawans. Her best friend, actually, and Anakin was actively listening. “I don’t know if she was surprised, irritated, or _what_ , but—“

“She was impressed,” Anakin provided confidently.

Ahsoka blinked. “Really?”

“Obi-Wan was right, you know. You’ve grown a lot during the war, Snips. People are going to start noticing, and to me it seems that they already have.”

He wasn’t completely sure, but Anakin could have sworn Ahsoka looked flustered. “I…” she stammered. “Well...you have to remember I have an advantage, Master.” At Anakin’s confused look, she offered, “My shoto? Doesn’t that provide me with more defense and even more opportunities to attack when sparring?”

“Absolutely not,” Anakin told her. “If that were truly the case, wouldn’t everyone have a shoto? Jar’kai is a difficult form to master, Ahsoka. Not every Jedi is the strongest when it comes to that suit. Myself included.”

Ahsoka’s eyes wandered to her lap, and she smiled softly, almost shyly. “Well, good thing I have Master Kenobi to help me improve, then,” she stated teasingly. 

“Eh, he’s okay, at best.” Anakin waved it off, only letting his laughter break through when Ahsoka did. Grinning at each other, Anakin made way to prepare for another quip when suddenly a strong gust of wind spiraled into the cave, sending shivers down both their spines. Then, as if one cue, their bonfire was demolished in mere moments, leaving them in nothing but darkness. 

Anakin unsheathed his ‘saber from his belt and activated it, lighting the air with a sapphire blue glow. Ahsoka activated hers as well, the shine of her emerald green blades contributing to the minimum amount of light source that had.

“Do we have any more matches?” She asked.

“I think so.” Anakin reached for his backpack, but he was interrupted by a sharp, shaky intake of breath. Pointing his weapon toward the sound in order for him to see better, he found Obi-Wan lying awake, blue-grey eyes wide and a bit alarmed at the lightsaber aimed at his head.

“What—“ he started confusedly. “What are you doin’, ‘kin?”

“Sorry, I couldn’t see,” Anakin informed him, kneeling down beside his former master. “Hey, you alright? You look sweaty.”

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” Obi-Wan mumbled as he dragged himself into a half-sitting up position, although he looked far from it. Almost instantly he placed his hand on his head and winced, igniting a spark of fear to course through Anakin’s body. “Just…”

“Master!” Ahsoka lunged toward Obi-Wan as he toppled forward, her lightsabers already long forgotten as they lay discarded on the ground. Anakin was already there, letting out an involuntary shout as he let his own weapon crumple at his feet, firmly placing his hands on his former master’s shoulders to keep him upright. Obi-Wan groaned softly and sucked in another shaky breath, his throat making a sound that made Anakin’s insides feel nauseous.

_What the kriff—_

“Tell me what’s wrong, Master,” Anakin ordered, unable to keep the alarm from flooding his voice any longer. “Just tell me what’s wrong. _Please_.”

“Really...d-dizzy. C-can’t...get a deep enough b-breath...in,” Obi-Wan managed weakly but rushedly, barely able to look his former Padawan in the eye. It was clear he was beginning to panic. 

“Okay, okay, just relax, Master.” Anakin brushed away a lock of ginger hair that had fallen into Obi-Wan’s eyes and tried to sound as calm and collected as possible. “Getting worked up isn’t going to help matters. First, let’s get this parka off you to loosen your clothing. You’ll be alright.”

A few moments passed and Obi-Wan was now relieved of his parka, nursing his injured arm with the other, a taut, tense expression outlining his features. Anakin loosened his former master’s tunics a bit as well, fully aware of how clothing could get in the way of breathing properly. As soon as he did this, though, a shiver violent enough to shake the cave walls around them tore down Obi-Wan’s spine, causing both men to startle.

“S-sorry,” Obi-Wan whispered, his teeth chattering erratically.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Anakin assured him gently.

“Y-yes, I do.” Obi-Wan shuddered again, unfocused blue-grey eyes blinking way too quickly, as if he were doing everything in his power to keep them open. “Sh-shoulda’ t-told you and...n-not hidden it.”

“I have to agree with you on that one,” Anakin admitted, grabbing hold of his former master’s uninjured arm and rolling up the sleeve to check his heart rate. The moment his fingers made even a ghost of contact with Obi-Wan’s skin, though, he almost jerked away out of reflex at the coldness and clamminess radiating from within it. 

“You’re freezing,” Anakin breathed softly. 

Obi-Wan’s response was only another horrid chill racing down his spine against his will.

“His body temperature is dropping,” Ahsoka concluded seriously. “Master...we were worried about the infection transitioning into something like cellulitis, but I think this is a lot worse than that. The chills, the drop in body temp, the dizziness, sleepiness, confusion—

“Sepsis,” Anakin finished. “That’s what we’re dealing with here.”

Ahsoka sighed heavily. “I think you’re right.”

“I...we can’t perform any kind of treatment here.” Anakin ran a hand through his hair helplessly, unsure of how else to occupy his hands. “There’s no way to drain the infection without the use of proper tools, we don’t have a ventilator to help him with his breathing or antibiotics to fight off the infection, we don’t have insulin to stabilize his blood sugar, and we _also_ don’t vasoactive medications to boost his blood sugar, and—“ Anakin cut himself off then, before he launched into a full-fledged panic attack. “There’s nothing we _can_ do, Ahsoka.”

“I know, Master.” Ahsoka only fixed him with a sympathetic expression, blue eyes glinting in what looked to be suspiciously like tears. “I know.”

Turning back to face Obi-Wan, Anakin stabilized his former master when he started to sway again, ignoring the surge of fear tearing through his bones. _Four_ hours. That was how long they had to wait until Rex and Cody rescued them. That was if they even knew where the three of them _were_. 

“If only we had our tracking beacons,” Ahsoka spoke for them all with a sigh. “We could be rescued sooner.”

“We can’t focus on the past,” Anakin informed her curtly, rummaging through his backpack and surfacing with a small container of painkillers. “So we lost our tracking beacons? Big deal. Time to invest in the problem at hand, not the one six hours ago.” Handing a few pills to Obi-Wan, he then said, “Here, take these. Should’ve given them to you earlier.”

His former master took them without protest and slammed them with a gulp of water. Then, he shivered again, wrapping his injured arm around his middle to warm himself. His eyes fluttered closed, seemingly against his will, and Anakin assumed he must have been meditating only for Obi-Wan to begin to tip forward and prove him completely and utterly wrong. With a reflexive lung, Anakin pulled his former master backward, watching as the eldest Jedi jerked back to awareness with a sharp gasp.

“You with us?” Anakin asked warily.

Obi-Wan gave a grim nod, but the movement alone only seemed to add to his dizziness as he brought a hand up to his head. “Not good.”

“Try to get some rest, Master,” Anakin only suggested, pulling a pack of matches from his backpack and handing them off to Ahsoka to get the fire started. “It’s all you can do at this point.”

“C-can’t,” Obi-Wan replied shakily.

It was Ahsoka who spoke up this time. The fire was now alight, flickering with small flames. “Why not?”

“Everytime I s-sleep, i-it’s harder to w-wake up.” Obi-Wan seemed as if he were nodding off even as he was speaking these words, much to Anakin’s alarm. “N-no good sleeping i-if I don’ wake u-up again.”

Ahsoka looked to Anakin helplessly. “He’s got a point there, Master. We don’t want to risk it.”

“Alright, then,” Anakin conceded, although he wasn’t happy about it. “But if you’re going to stay up, then you need to lean against me. You can barely sit straight without teetering to the side, old man.”

To his surprise, Obi-Wan didn’t offer any kind of argument, only settling himself against his former Padawan’s side with a tired sigh. Across from him, Anakin saw the appalled look Ahsoka shot him at her grandmaster’s compliance and only gave her a small shrug in return. As terrible as it was witnessing Obi-Wan in a state such as this, Anakin couldn’t deny that it also brought him a sort of comfort. All his life, all those years he had spent by his former master’s side as a young apprentice, Obi-Wan had been there for him in the good and bad: when he was sick, injured, confused, angry, prideful, heartbroken, and impulsive. And of course while Obi-Wan hadn’t handled every single situation perfectly or in the exact way Anakin would have liked, never had he given up on him, despite the Council’s everlasting opinion that he was “dangerous”. 

But now that he had given it some good thought, Anakin came to realize that not once had Obi-Wan asked his former Padawan for any kind of help when it came to himself. He always insisted that he was fine, or that he could handle it himself, or that nothing of extreme importance was even _wrong_. 

Anakin had offered assistance. Many times, he was sure. But Obi-Wan made it quite clear that he didn’t need any of the sort.

And now, as he watched his former master rest his head on his shoulder, eyes closing against his will, Anakin fought the little smile that threatened to creep up his lips. He had always been here. Surely Obi-Wan knew that. The little bastard had just been too stubborn to do anything about it, like ask for something as simple as _help_.

Suddenly Obi-Wan’s head rolled off of Anakin’s shoulder, and he jerked back to life, startling both men to the point where they almost jumped. Cheeks flushing in what was so clearly embarrassment, Obi-Wan turned to look up at Anakin, blue-grey eyes foggy with drowsiness.

“S-sorry,” he breathed, rubbing at his face wearily with one gloved hand.

“Don’t be,” Anakin assured him quietly. “Just go back to sleep, Master.”

And then, he watched in a mix of fondness and amusement as Obi-Wan resettled himself back against his former Padawan’s shoulder and immediately drifted off. Ahsoka, on the other hand, expressed nothing but concern.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” She asked worriedly. “Letting him go back to sleep?”

“He should be fine,” Anakin informed her softly, as to not disturb his resting master. “I’ll monitor his essence in the Force, though, just to be sure. You know, wake him up if I sense anything starting to happen.”

“I wish I could say that I agree, Master, but…” Ahsoka trailed off, blue eyes widening as Anakin felt Obi-Wan’s head sliding down his shoulder once again. He waited for his former master to sense he was falling and to jerk back awake, but this time, he didn’t. It was only Anakin’s lightning quick reflexes that stopped Obi-Wan from clocking his head on the ground.

“Master!” Anakin exclaimed as he took hold of Obi-Wan’s shoulders, watching in horror as his former master’s head limply whipped back, devoid of any signs of life. Cupping his chin, Anakin's teeth gritted when he discovered Obi-Wan’s eyes were still closed. “Master!”

When he didn’t earn a response, Anakin carefully laid Obi-Wan down in his lap and shook his shoulders. “Don’t do this to me, old man,” He ordered. “ _Wake up_!”

His former master lay boneless in his arms, a single lock of ginger hair falling into his eyes at being jostled. He gave no indication—not even in the slightest—that there was a chance of him hearing Anakin. 

“Master Kenobi!” Ahsoka called, reaching over and tilting Obi-Wan’s head to meet her gaze. His eyes remained shut. “Wake up! _Please_!”

And despite their commands, Obi-Wan did not wake, their screams and cries traveling away from them in the empty void they were abandoned in, only to return to them in mere moments, but as echoes this time, going completely unheard and unanswered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that’s chapter 4 everyone... I hope it left you on the edge of your seat! Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos, reviews, and questions are always welcome! Let me know what you think!


End file.
